Locked and Forgotten
by HOAnubisTS
Summary: "Promise me, promise me you'll get me out!" she yelled, in a state of complete frenzy. The words I planned to say got stuck in the captivity of my throat, and my mouth went dry. "I promise," I murmured, stroking her hair.
1. Stranger

**Why is this so SHORT you may ask? **

'**Cause it's an introduction. I'll start this off by saying I LOVE Theon (check my profile for why). This story is set during Theon's stay at the Boltons. Have a good day, and please review. **

The wench was thrown into his cell in the middle of the night. Theon jolted awake, half expecting to see Ramsay Bolton's grey eyes shimmering in the dark. He almost let out a sigh of relief when he heard soft sobs from the corner of the room.

"Who are you?" The girl didn't know she had company. She crawled back like a frightened insect.

"I'm not going to hurt you," he called, his voice soft and soothing. "What's your name? Who are you?"

He heard her shift away from him. "Who are _you_?"

_Reek, Reek, it rhymes with sneak._

"Reek." Somewhere in the castle, someone screamed. The girl flinched. "Did…he captured you?"

"What's he going to do to me?" Her voice was trembling with fear. _She's still half a child_, he thought.

Still, lying would be pointless – so he told her the truth, being as gentle as he could be. "Be a good girl… he won't do anything too painful. If he does… grit your teeth and… don't yell out."

As soon as the words left her lips, she let shuddering sobs rack her body. All he could do was listen to her, and hope she'd shut up soon. The crying ceased only when she opened her mouth to talk – and even then her voice quivered.

"I… used to be a highborn, you know. I used to be called _my lady_… the man calls me his bitch."

Her words hit him too close to home. He was on the verge of telling her everything, when at the last moment he bit his lip and dug his nails into his skin.

_Reek, Reek, it rhymes with weak. _

Then the footsteps echoed off the walls, the chains rattled, and the door swung open with a deafening creak. Reek froze with dread.

Little Walder's silhouette approached the girl. "Bolton wants you."

She sat there, rigid, looking up at him in terror. "I don't want to go."

Theon almost hit her for saying that. She'd guaranteed herself a painful, gory night.

"Bolton doesn't care if you want," Walder chuckled. "He wants you." Although he was only eight, he was able to sling her over his shoulder and hold her down as she struggled and squirmed.

"Help me, Reek! Help me!" she screamed. But all he did was watch. Guilt turned inside of his stomach, yet the sharp pain in his newly flayed ring finger subdued the feeling.

"Help me! Help me!" Her voice became more distant by the second.

He fell asleep listening to her sob and scream.


	2. Recognition

She came like she went.

Little Walder threw the hysteric, bewildered girl in. She landed on her right hand and yelped as tears ran down her face. Chains rattled, the door squealed shut, and Walder's footsteps grew more distant.

"What did they do to you?" Reek asked the darkness.

"Why didn't you help me?" was her response. She inhaled damp smell of urine and coughed.

"I couldn't. If I did, Ramsay would be angry, at both you and me. In his fury he'd kill me without thinking – which would be merciful. But you… he wouldn't let you have the mercy." It sounded like a lie coming from a frightened boy, but it was the truth. A fragile silence blanketed the small room. After a while, he asked, "What did he do to you?"

Her knees were shaking, and her hands were clammy with sweat. She began to tell the story, her voice trembling with fear. "The boy took me to the room… and he locked me in. The man – the bad, bad man… he – he sat at the chair, and I was on the floor crying. He told me to stop, really calmly, but that scary type of calm, just like my mother's voice was when I was about to get in trouble. I couldn't stop, I just couldn't…" Another shuddering sob escaped her lips. "Then he hit me, all over, until everything hurt. He took a knife from the table, and carved words into my legs. I struggled and struggled but he was too strong. I managed to kick him in the face… I shouldn't have. He went _livid_. He took the knife… and then – then he popped out my eye, my right eye." Without thinking, he reached out to touch her face. His finger touched the edge of her empty eye socket. He recoiled in disgust.

"Is there more?"

"Yes." A few floors down, pans and spoons clattered. "He… he…"

She didn't have to finish the sentence. He took her into his arms, stroking her face for comfort, tactfully avoiding her eyes. She was young and fragile in his arms. It killed him inside to see something so pure and innocent being scarred by Ramsay's touch.

"Promise me, promise me you'll get me out!" she whispered, her voice barely audible. The words he planned to say got stuck in the captivity of his  
throat, his mouth going as dry as a desert.

"I promise," he murmured, stroking her hair. Then, somehow, she managed to drift to sleep, listening to him breathe.

* * *

_She was with her family again. The laughter rang in the halls of Winterfell, hearty and cheerful. She looked down at her gown – simple, yet elegant, made of dark purple silk the color of ripe plums hailing from the South. _

_She spotted her half brother Jon Snow sitting three tables away. With a glum expression on his face, he stared at his plate. Her mother, the radiant Lady Stark, noticed him and frowned. _

_Robb was sat with his friends, laughing and sipping wine from a golden horn. The musicians played a cheery tune with their fiddles._

_Abruptly, the music stopped, and Jon looked her in the eye. As she looked around, she noticed hundreds of eyes trained on her. In a flash everyone was around her, circling her like vultures. She yelled for her mother, for her father, the brave Ned Stark. _

_The gods save me, the gods save me, the gods save me, she thought._

* * *

"Girl!" Reek shook her by the shoulders . "Girl!" She was panting, unable to stop shaking. The early morning rays shone through the opening on the ceiling. She opened her eyes – her _eye_ – to see his face. He dropped her as if she was a cockroach in his hands.

"I know you," he managed to say after a while. "You're… Sansa Stark."

**I know what you're gonna say. **_**How come he/she didn't know that beforehand?**_ **Because she has changed, he has changed too. Plus, when she first arrived, it was dark and all.**

**JUST GET OVER IT. XD**

**And… Sansa's eye? I'M SORRY. She's my third favorite character and it killed me inside but I had to do it to portray Bolton's evilness. :'(**

**Well… um, review! Oh, and I want to know, did you guys see her identity coming?**


End file.
